


Caramel Macchiato Love

by dyingpoet



Series: Sprace one shots [4]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 22:04:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13510698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyingpoet/pseuds/dyingpoet
Summary: Race works at a coffee shop and Spot is a regular





	Caramel Macchiato Love

"Name?"

"I feel like we're past that point."

Race smiled, biting his lip and scribbling 'Spot' on the receipt.

"Still gotta ask."

Spot hummed softly, smirking a bit before nodding and walking over to his table. It really wasn't  _his_ table, sure, whenever Race got to work it was the first one he cleaned, and sometimes he left extra sugar packets there because Spot never seemed to have enough, but it wasn't  _his_.

He let his gaze linger on Spot for a few more seconds before turning around, running right into a smug Jack.

"Enjoying the view?"

Blushing, Race shoved him, starting to make Spot's order. Caramel macchiato, every time. Race had bugged him to try something new, 'broaden his horizons' as he has so eloquently put, but Spot just smiled, nope, he didn't like change he said, and paid. It cost exactly $4.72 with tax, and Spot always had a five and made fun of Race when he took so long to get the change, the coin slots were so small and he always dropped the coins. 

"C'mon Racer," Jack said, leaning over his shoulder, "Just ask him out, get your man."

He yelped when Race elbowed him, moving to get some whip cream, "Don't breathe on my neck."

"Right,  _I'm_ not the one you want doing that."

Rolling his eyes, Race turned around, putting the lid on Spot's drink, "Y'know, you really shouldn't talk like that when I have a hot drink in my hand Jack." 

Jack put his hands up in surrender, walking over to the register to take an order. 

He didn't even want to ask Spot out, he didn't think so anyway. He'd never been super into dating, messing around with a couple guys in high school, one or two more since he got to in college, but, he just wasn't  _good_ at it. It always got awkward after a couple of dates and then they just sorta, stopped talking? It was always really gradual and then, poof, he'd never hear from them again. 

That couldn't happen with Spot, if it went badly he'd still have to see him when he came in for coffee, so he'd probably end up quitting his job to avoid Spot, and then he'd never date anyone ever again because Spot was  _perfect_. They got along really well in their limited interactions, and whenever Race had a break they sat together, they were into a lot of the same stuff and Spot went to college near where Race did, they just clicked.

"Spot?"

Spot looked up, and fuck he thought he saw his eyes light up a little bit but he was probably wrong, and got up, walking over and taking his drink. "Why is it always a question?"

"What?" Race asked, frowning.

"You always say my name like a question, it's weird," Spot said, sipping his drink and leaning on the counter. His eyes looked so great up close that Race could probably faint and he knew fucking Jack was staring at him right now, gloating in his stupid head.

He just sighed dramatically though, leaning so his elbows rested on the counter, "I'm a product of the customer service machine Spotty, they've ingrained it in my brain."

"Oh and the English major makes an appearance huh? All those poetry classes are really making you come off sorta intellectual."

"Says the engineer."

Spot laughed, Race really loved his laugh, he's actually written a fuck ton of poems about it, which he'd buried in a box under his bed because Jack liked to snoop whenever he came over and he'd never let Race live it down if he found them.

"This sass is one of the many reasons I only gave you an okay review on Yelp," he quipped, pushing at Race's shoulder playfully before walking back to his seat, typing at something on his computer.

He looked down at his shoes, trying to hide his smile as he walked over to the cappuccino machine and started making Jack's next order. It was caramel with cinnamon sprinkled on top so he knew it was for Davey, which also meant that Jack didn't make him pay and he'd probably have to cover it so their manager didn't get pissed when she counted the drawer at the end of the week.

"Like I was  _saying_ Davey," Jack started loudly from the register, "Race should totally just  _man up_ and stop bothering with his constant pining."

Race hummed a bit, turning around and bringing Davey his drink, "And like  _I_ was saying Davey, Jack should watch his mouth when I'm carrying hot drinks." Davey accepted his drink while Race kicked Jack in the shin. 

"Ignore him Race," Davey said, dropping his change in their pathetically empty tip jar, "Jack stared at me for two months in Econ before finally making his move, it was so sad." He reached out and played with Jack's hair despite the scowl on this face. 

Race snorted and walked away when Jack started stuttering out an explanation, washing a few dishes while he tried to get the growing blush on his face from spreading. He hated that Jack had a point, pining over Spot was physically painful sometimes, and it might make sense to just ask him out and put himself out of his misery. Just, he had no idea what to do if he said no, it didn't really bother him when he got rejected at school, he never  _really_ liked any of them. This was different and he hated it and he also hadn't realized that he'd nearly over filled the sink.

Groaning, he turned the water off and unplugged the drain, grabbing a towel and going back over to Jack and Davey, who were kissing over the counter and he would have thrown up if it wasn't so fucking cute. 

"Stop being in love and help me with my problems," Race whined, glancing up at Spot, his earbuds were in and he'd started tapping his foot to whatever music he was listening to.

Jack pulled away from Davey, grabbing his hand instead and turning to face Race, "You've finally come to your senses my friend, and in record time, three months I think?"

Davey smacked him lightly on the back of the head, "Again, you have absolutely no room to talk Kelly," he looked over his shoulder at Spot, "And Race, just ask him out! Do something cute, he'll love it, I can tell."

Race arched an eyebrow, "From that one look."

"I'm psychic, it's a gift."

"Yeah, he's right Racer, not about the psychic thing, but you should totally just go for it."

He put his head on the counter, groaning and banging it a few times once Jack and Davey started bickering about ESP. This whole thing was dumb, he should just get a cat and graduate college and become that sad poet in the woods who Jack and Davey come visit with their children who think he's some sort of witch. The idea started to take more shape when he saw Spot's receipt still laying on the counter where he'd left it. 

"God this is so fucking high school," he mumbled under his breath, grabbing the receipt hastily and writing his number down carefully, he thought about adding a heart but didn't want to come off creepy so he settled for just the number.

Taking a deep breath and purposely avoiding Jack and Davey's stupid cute stares and 'awws' when he walked out from behind the counter, he walked over to Spot. 

Spot's head shot up once he got there, a little bit too fast to have been natural, and tilted his head while taking out his earbuds. "What's up Higgins? Coming to try and salvage that review I left?"

Race tried to laugh, probably sounding like he was choking, and said, "You wish, actually you uh, left your receipt?"

Spot accepted it, shaking his head, "Always a question." Right after though, his eyes went back to the receipt, widening a bit, maybe blushing?

"Well, well, well, took long enough Higgins," he said, pulling out his phone and typing his number in.

Race laughed, he could feel a blush spreading to his ears, and let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He felt like someone had struck a match in his chest and his phone was vibrating with a text from Spot, who'd started to pack up his stuff.

"Pick you up tomorrow after you get off?"

"Uh yeah! I mean, um yes, that'd be great," Race said, smiling like an idiot when Spot picked up his bag winking before walking out.

For some reason he started laughing, walking back over to Jack and Davey, one of them looking awfully smug, the other smiling and taking a long sip of his drink. He looked down, walking back behind the counter and pulling out his phone, staring dumbly at the number on the screen.

"Get it Racer."

"Fuck off Kelly."

**Author's Note:**

> This is my favorite type of au so i hope you enjoyed!! Leave kudos/comments if you did!


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